Amber

by Deborah Challinor

  Kitty watched as the dock slowly receded, the solid buildings along the cove’s shoreline shrinking to the size of a child’s toys as she leaned on the rail. Then, as the sun went down behind the upper reaches of The Rocks, the sunset turned the soil and rock of Sydney even redder, and for thirty minutes or so the whole harbour looked aflame, even the sea. She wondered when they would return to Sydney again. Quite soon, possibly, given that the unfortunate Mr Kinghazel had been despatched and they no longer had to concern themselves with any ideas of revenge he might have been harbouring.

  By the time the crew sat down to Pierre’s supper in the mess-room, the Katipo was passing between Dawes Point and Bennelong Point in the mouth of the harbour, and was about to move out into the dark rising swell of the Pacific Ocean. They would sail directly across the Tasman Sea, heading for Wellington to make the most of the trade winds, then through Cook Strait and up the East Coast of the North Island until they reached the Bay of Islands. As they ate, the ocean became progressively more choppy, and Kitty decided that after supper she would go down into the hold to make sure that the trunk in which Wai’s remains had been packed was well secured. It would be unthinkable if the trunk toppled over.

  It was truly dark by the time she lifted the hatch to the hold and, being careful not to spill any oil from her lamp, she made her way down the steep ladder, Bodie bouncing lightly down behind her. Kitty was pleased she had changed into a pair of trousers; the ladder was difficult enough to negotiate as it was, without layers of skirts hampering her.

  At the foot of the ladder she paused and waited until her eyes had become accustomed to the semi-darkness. It was odd, she reflected, how the darkness of a night sky was always crisp and sharp, while the blackness contained within walls seemed to be much more palpable, and somehow thicker.

  When she could see she moved forward, threading her way through bales and crates and barrels until she reached Wai’s trunk. Setting the lamp carefully on a box, she bent down and checked that the ropes lashing the trunk to the deck were secure. She patted the lid of the trunk fondly.

  ‘You’ll soon be home,’ she whispered. ‘Back with your people and your father and your baby, I promise.’

  She stood for a moment, thinking about everything that had happened since she had last talked to her friend, then turned to retrieve the lamp. But as she did, the Katipo rolled mightily and she fell against the box, knocking the lamp over. It shattered, spilling a puddle of burning oil onto the deck. Kitty squeaked and scrambled out of the way, wildly looking around for something with which to douse the small fire.

  But suddenly, a large black shape rushed at her from the shadows at the far end of the hold, banging and crashing and knocking things over as it came. Bodie screeched and leapt onto a stack of crates. A second later something rough flapped across Kitty’s face, a gust of air whooshed past her and the puddle of flame disappeared, followed immediately by the muffled sound of the lamp being crunched and smothered underfoot. Terrified, Kitty staggered backwards until she connected with Wai’s trunk, and groped for the broom she knew was lying behind it. She snatched it up and began swinging it through the darkness, at the same time screaming out for help.

  The broom hit something and a male voice cried, ‘Ow! Christ!’

  Kitty swung even harder, this time connecting solidly enough to jar her forearms.

  ‘Ow, stop that, Miss Carlisle. It’s me!’

  Bodie chose that moment to attack, launching herself at the intruder’s head, spitting and scratching. The swearing increased.

  Panting, Kitty cautiously lowered the broom. ‘Who is “me”?’

  The disembodied voice squawked, ‘Daniel Royce, the sergeant from Hyde Park Barracks. Ow, Jesus Christ!’

  Rian came skittering down the ladder into the hold at neck-breaking speed, followed by Hawk with another lamp, then Gideon and Mick.

  Rian’s boots thudded on the deck and he dodged across the hold towards Kitty, his drawn pistol glinting. Seeing that she appeared to be safe he stopped, peered at the shadowed figure next to her still scrambling to protect his face from Bodie’s claws, and demanded, ‘Who the hell is this?’

  ‘Sergeant Royce, from the barracks,’ Kitty replied, her voice wobbling slightly and her heart still racing.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The sergeant from Hyde Park Barracks. The one who helped me,’ Kitty said. ‘At least he says it is. I can’t see him properly.’

  ‘Are you all right?’ Rian asked her.

  Kitty nodded as Rian disconnected a still-spitting Bodie from her victim’s head.

  ‘But I broke the lamp,’ Kitty said. ‘There’s oil on the deck.’

  ‘See to it, Mick,’ Rian ordered, then he grasped the man’s arm and bundled him roughly towards the ladder.

  By the time Kitty had followed them up to the mess-room, both Rian and the intruder were seated at the table. Bodie was perched on the far end, glaring malevolently. Rian’s pistol rested on the table in front of him, within easy reach. It was obvious in the light of the cabin lamps that the man was indeed Daniel Royce. He had a beard of four or five days, Bodie’s handiwork had left deep scratches on his left cheek, and his clothes—not his smart barracks uniform, Kitty noted—were grubby and creased, but she clearly recognised his handsome, boyish features.

  ‘Good evening, Miss Carlisle,’ Daniel said sheepishly.

  ‘Hello, Sergeant,’ Kitty replied as she sat down. ‘Actually, it’s Mrs Farrell now. Captain Farrell here is my husband,’ she added.

  Something indecipherable flitted across Daniel’s face and he seemed to deflate slightly. ‘Oh,’ he said after a moment. Then, ‘Please accept my congratulations.’

  ‘Never mind that,’ Rian barked. ‘What the hell were you doing in my hold?’

  ‘Stowing away,’ Daniel replied candidly.

  ‘Really? Why, may I ask?’

  ‘Unfortunately, I can’t tell you that,’ Daniel said.

  Rian’s eyes narrowed, which meant he was about to lose his temper. ‘In that case, unfortunately, you’ll have to swim back to Sydney Cove because I’m not taking you anywhere.’

  Apparently either unconcerned by, or unaware of, the veiled menace in Rian’s tone, Daniel said, ‘But now that you know I’m aboard, could I perhaps work my passage to, well, wherever it is you’re bound?’

  Astounded, Rian glanced at the rest of the crew standing near the door watching with great interest, then back at Daniel. ‘Am I correct in understanding that you stole aboard my schooner, without even knowing our next port of call, hoping to conceal yourself in my hold for God knew how long, eating rats and drinking your own piss?’

  ‘Not exactly, no,’ Daniel said. ‘Not the rats and the piss, anyway. But I’m more than happy to work my passage. I’ve been to sea before.’

  Rian shook his head at the pure cheek of the man. ‘I won’t even consider it until you tell me why you’ve stowed away. If you wanted to leave Sydney, why didn’t you secure a passage aboard an outgoing vessel like everyone else?’

  Daniel dropped his gaze then and stared hard at the scarred table top, apparently in the throes of some sort of internal debate. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. No longer sounding quite so confident, he replied, ‘The reason I couldn’t secure passage like everyone else is because I’m wanted by the Sydney armed constabulary.’

  ‘What for?’ Rian said flatly.

  ‘Suspicion of murder.’

  Rian’s expression didn’t alter at all. ‘The murder of whom?’

  ‘Walter Kinghazel.’

  Chapter Three

  Ah,’ Rian said, and sat back. ‘And what spurred you to despatch such a fine, upstanding citizen as Mr Kinghazel? Or is murder something you’re in the habit of committing?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ Daniel replied indignantly. ‘I’ve never killed anyone in my life. Until now.’

  ‘So why Kinghazel?’

  ‘He was a bastard.’

  ‘Yes, well, we all knew that,’ Rian ag
reed. ‘But surely you must have had a more specific motive?’

  Daniel looked deeply uncomfortable. ‘I’d rather not say.’

  Rian let the silence stretch out until Daniel began to fidget.

  ‘It concerns Miss Carlisle,’ he said eventually.

  ‘Mrs Farrell,’ Hawk interjected pointedly.

  ‘What about her?’ Rian said.

  ‘I can’t say.’

  Rian looked up at Kitty. ‘Would you mind waiting in our quarters?’

  ‘Yes, I would,’ she shot back. ‘If it concerns me, I want to know.’

  Rian’s eyebrows lifted barely perceptibly, and after a moment Kitty stamped off into the cabin, banging the door unnecessarily loudly behind her, then yanking it open again a second later as Bodie scratched furiously to be let in.

  Rian planted his elbows on the table. ‘Right, Sergeant, out with it.’

  ‘It’s probably only “Mister” now, as I suppose I’ve deserted,’ Daniel said. Then he sighed. ‘I killed Kinghazel because he’d been going around for the past year telling anyone who would listen that he’d…that he’d had relations of a sexual nature with Miss Carlisle when you were last in Sydney. And that she is a doxy.’ He swallowed and looked directly at Rian. ‘And I know she isn’t.’

  There was a very heavy silence in the mess-room, which Hawk broke by saying somewhat aggressively this time, ‘It is Mrs Farrell. She is married now.’

  Rian’s faced had paled and his lips barely moved as he said, ‘Well, Royce, if you hadn’t slit the prick’s throat, I would have.’

  ‘And me,’ Mick added. The others all nodded, and Pierre had gone positively puce with outrage.

  Daniel went on. ‘When I met Miss—Mrs Farrell, at the barracks, when she was visiting Avery Bannerman, I didn’t know her very well, of course, but I could see that she was a lady. And that she would never do anything of the sort, especially with a jumped-up little shit like Kinghazel.’

  Rian looked at him for a long moment. ‘So why do you think he was he saying it?’

  ‘Revenge, I suppose.’ Daniel made a contemptuous face. ‘You had dealings with him, Captain, you know what a nasty piece of work he was. He was incensed when you got off that customs charge, almost mad with rage, and he never forgot it. It grew in him like a cancer. God knows what he had up his sleeve for when you showed your face in Sydney Cove again. But you never did, and I imagine he thought the worst he could do instead was to slander the lady who had been in your company.’

  ‘Did you hear the slander with your own ears?’ Hawk asked.

  ‘Yes. Kinghazel sometimes drank in the same public house I did. The Erin-go-Bragh? I heard it coming out of his foul mouth four or five times before I finally lost my temper.’

  Rian turned the pistol on the table so the barrel no longer pointed at Daniel. ‘You hadn’t planned it?’

  ‘No, I just lost my temper,’ Daniel said. ‘I followed him home one night, just meaning to give him a good kicking to teach him a lesson, and then he said it.’

  ‘Said what?

  ‘He said, “I suppose you tupped her yourself, did you, when she was flogging her wares at the barracks?” And then before I knew it my knife was in my hand and I’d slit his throat. But I’ve never regretted it,’ Daniel added defiantly. ‘Not once.’

  Rian said, ‘Did you expect to get away with it?’

  ‘Not really. But I’m not prepared to swing for the little bastard either. I’m surprised it’s taken so long for the rozzers to find out that I was outside his house the night he died. But Kinghazel wasn’t liked and people haven’t been particularly helpful.’

  ‘So when they did put you in the picture you decided it was time to leave Sydney?’

  Daniel nodded.

  ‘So why choose my schooner?’ Rian asked.

  Daniel’s gaze met Rian’s and they stared at each other across the mess table for almost a minute.

  Then Daniel said, ‘Because I thought you’d be the least likely person to turn me in, given that Kinghazel tried to have you gaoled.’

  He was lying, and Rian knew it. Or he at least knew that Royce wasn’t giving him a completely frank answer. But for some reason he was beginning to warm to the man, and he admired his principles, especially as they had concerned Kitty’s virtue, although he was starting to wonder whether Kitty was actually Royce’s reason for being on the Katipo. Royce hadn’t said as much—he seemed far too circumspect for that—but it was written all over his face every time he looked at her.

  ‘Well, you’re right in assuming I won’t turn you in,’ Rian said. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you’ve done me a favour. Several, actually. You can sail with us to New Zealand, but you will work your passage. And let me make something very clear at the outset, Royce. This schooner, and everything on it, is mine. That includes the gear, the cargo, and the crew. It also includes my wife. Do you understand?’

  The cabin became very silent; even the creaking of the Katipo’s hull and the cracking of her sails overhead seemed to cease for a few, heavy, seconds.

  Eventually, Daniel nodded.

  Kitty was already in bed, scowling and sitting with the sheets pulled up to her chest, Bodie dozing across her lap. Rian sat down in the wooden chair at his desk and wrestled off his boots, kicking them across the rug towards the wardrobe.

  ‘Are you unhappy with me?’ he asked.

  ‘What do you think?’ Kitty replied tartly. ‘You made me look a fool in there, Rian. Telling me to go to my room like a naughty little child!’

  Rian sighed, reached for the brandy decanter on his desk and poured himself a sizeable tot. ‘I didn’t tell you to go to your room, I asked you to wait in our quarters.’

  ‘It’s the same thing, though, isn’t it?’ Kitty snapped. ‘You didn’t think it appropriate that my little shell-like ears hear whatever it was Daniel had to say, so you told me to go away.’

  ‘You don’t have shell-like ears, Kitty, and you know as well as I do that over the past four years they’ve already heard every inappropriateness they’re ever likely to.’

  ‘That’s not the point, Rian! You’re always doing that, making decisions on my behalf when I’m perfectly capable of making them for myself.’

  ‘How can you make a decision about something you’re not even aware of yet?’

  ‘Oh, shut up,’ Kitty said crossly. ‘You know what I mean.’

  Rian dared not look at her, in case he laughed.

  Kitty adjusted the sheets, pulling them up even higher across her chest. Rian noticed that she was wearing the nightdress he was particularly fond of, the floaty white one he’d discovered was almost transparent whenever he asked her to hop out of bed and fetch him something from his desk.

  ‘So what was Daniel’s great secret, anyway?’ she asked. ‘The one not fit for my ears?’

  ‘He was the one who didn’t want to say it in front of you, if you’ll recall,’ Rian replied, not feeling like laughing any more: Kitty’s familiar use of Royce’s Christian name was beginning to make him feel uneasy. He took another sip of his brandy. ‘Kitty?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘How well did you get to know Daniel Royce? At the barracks, I mean?’

  She looked at him warily. ‘Not particularly well. Why?’

  Rian paused while he considered how best to ask his next question. ‘Well, did anything…happen while you were there?’

  ‘Yes. I was scared witless on each occasion and I had to lie myself blue in the face and flaunt myself in a dress any self-respecting tart would kill for. Is that what you mean?’

  ‘No. I meant…with Royce.’

  Something briefly flickered in Kitty’s eyes, but she blinked and it was gone. ‘Such as?’

  But Rian had seen it. ‘Such as, did he make advances towards you of any sort?’

  Kitty looked so genuinely surprised by the question that Rian’s unease instantly receded. He didn’t for a second suspect that Kitty was keeping secrets from him and he trusted her implicitly. He a
lways had. It was his own fear making him nervous: he could not bear even the notion of being forced to live from day to day suspecting that she did not belong wholly to him. There was a part of her spirit he could never lay claim to, and he loved that about her even if it did lead to some fairly energetic disagreements, but he knew that her heart was his alone, just as she knew that he loved her unfailingly. And he did, he loved her as much as he loved the sea herself. It had taken him some time after they had wed to allow himself to relax and accept that she was finally his, but something small and unpleasant lodged deep within him still occasionally persisted in asking whether she would be his forever.

  ‘Advances? From Daniel Royce?’ Kitty exclaimed. ‘Hardly. He’s one of the most courteous, honourable men I’ve ever met.’

  ‘He never implied that he liked you, or anything like that?’

  ‘Of course not! Rian, what is all this about?’

  Knowing that there was no way to avoid telling her, Rian said reluctantly, ‘Royce has just informed us that he murdered Kinghazel to avenge your honour.’

  Hoping fervently that his lovely wife was not going to suddenly decide that she had to take responsibility for Royce’s actions, Rian said gently, ‘Kinghazel was evidently going about insulting your personal reputation. Your virtue. Royce had had enough of it and killed him.’

  Kitty looked mystified. ‘What sort of insults?’

  Oh God, he had known she was going to ask that. ‘He was implying, suggesting, that he had received, well, sexual favours from you.’

  ‘From me?’ Kitty cried shrilly, causing Bodie to leap off the bed in fright. ‘That little toad! If I’d known that, I would have killed him myself!’

  ‘No, Kitty,’ Rian said, his voice suddenly harsh. ‘I would have, make no mistake about it.’

  ‘But why, Rian? Why would he say something like that?’